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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30028440">Claustrophilia</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryfortune/pseuds/merryfortune'>merryfortune</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Breast Fucking, Doggy Style, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Minor or Implied Humiliation Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Play, No Lube, Pearl Necklace, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Pollen, Trapped in a Box, Voice Kink</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:42:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,126</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30028440</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryfortune/pseuds/merryfortune</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Playmaker and Spectre go looking for Earth's remains; what they find is more troublesome than that when they're locked in a storage shed for discarded and incomplete data that happens to be booby-trapped with some rather unusual viruses.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fujiki Yuusaku/Spectre</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Claustrophilia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>   Playmaker had expected Spectre to turn up incognito and unrecognisable but no, he appeared before them in his usual avatar. The white jacket with matching white trousers, the Hanoi stripe of black down his sternum from his collar in front of his throat. Granted, he had arrived so quietly that Playmaker had needed an outside prompt from Ai to mention that Spectre had turned up as per the meeting. But still. Outwardly, he looked the same as usual and that boded ill by Playmaker’s count but he was hoping to see the best in Spectre, nonetheless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   About two weeks ago, Yusaku had received a very unusual e-mail. From Spectre, if all people. Not as a representative of his organisation but as an individual. It spoke of a tentative alliance that would have to remain in the most covert of secrecy as Spectre desired the most illicit outcome of this potential alliance: he wanted to see Earth’s data repatriated. He did not care what happened to it afterwards but so long as Earth’s final resting place was not the cemetery of SOL Tech’s hidden data and the like. But it had to be done outside of the knowledge of the Knights of Hanoi, which was Spectre’s only condition. He didn’t want his Master and their glorious ambitions disappointed but he wanted some satisfaction of closure as an Originator of an Ignis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   So, with a lot of planning and similar dealings, Yusaku agreed. For short stints and the like, Spectre would find ways to lend himself out but, ideally, one shot and one shot was all they would need as a team-up as Kusanagi had heard rumours of Queen having a toy box of all her favourite discarded reams of broken data. Hopefully, Earth would be there rather than in the mainstay of the SOL Tech Database as probing Akira for information about Earth’s whereabouts appeared to imply he was not there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Are you ready?” Playmaker asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “As I’ll ever be.” Spectre replied, sour, unable to meet Playmaker’s gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   His sullen demeanour was more than a bit off-putting to Playmaker which he found unsettling. His perception of Spectre was all sweeping hand gestures and larger than life laughter. His rebellion against Revolver, no matter how slight or for nought, must be weighing on him painfully. So, Playmaker resolved silently to get this over and done with. For Spectre’s sake. So he could go back to being, well, Spectre. Spectre whose sole purpose was to serve Revolver and remain at the side, obedient and following orders, not rebelling against them, no matter how furtively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Together, they followed the directions to this so-called toy box of Queen’s. They used their D-Boards with Playmaker taking the lead; Spectre was content to follow suit at a couple of paces behind. The Link VRAINS was quiet at this hour; especially this far out into the hinterlands as it were. They got through a strange, holographic oasis but on the other side, there was a sense of seclusion. Bars encasing this area into a gaol-like sphere. Yet they didn’t appear in the reflections on the turquoise water despite how they cast shadows on the broad leaves of the palm trees. Still, this sense of captivity, under lock and key, meant they were in the right place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Yet there was supposed to be a trove of treasure somewhere in this oasis but they couldn’t see it for looking. Most irritably, they were aware of that. They had been told of a literal box would be before them but they couldn’t see it at the shoreline. And yet, just merely pressing on further, contending with the water and entering it, feeling it not quite lap up against their ankles, they found it. Yet their eyes bamboozled by the way turquoise water glimmered around them, casting reflections at odd and impossible angles but when they touched that box, the illusion turned pure white within the proximity of that box.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   From what Kusanagi could calculate, it was six by seven metres, rectangular, and seven metres tall. Inside it, it bristled with all sorts of dormant data. It felt truly hopeful that in one of these boxes inside the unit, Earth’s remnants would be there. It was just a matter of getting inside. More luck than anything else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker took to one and Spectre took the other. Silently but intently, they split from the rough middle and groped along the flat surface in front of them. It felt more like miming than anything else given the optical illusion of this space but as silly as it was, Playmaker found it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Over here.” he called Spectre and like a diligent dog, Spectre stopped what he was doing to reconvene with Playmaker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   A faint glow of cyan illuminated the barest hint of an entryway to the inside of Queen’s personal data storage unit. Her toy box, as it was colloquially known. The entryway was fit for a single file so Spectre gestured it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “You first.” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker nodded and steeled himself. He wasn’t too sure what he was expecting but something akin to the official SOL Tech Database, probably. Swirling blue ceilings, marble columns, gold orbs stowed some of the data. Grecian would likely be a good word for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   But apparently not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   It did feel cramped inside the box but in a different sort of way. One more anxiety-inducing than just that. Toybox was anything but apt. It was just a white box. Eerily similar to the very ones that Playmaker and Spectre had been enclosed in as children. The walls were blindingly bright, it just felt like a space of nothingness. Though squinting at the walls and floors revealed they weren’t pure whiteness. Just almost. There were tiny diamonds and checkers of an incredibly pale grey to off-site the harsher white. Despite that tiny difference, Playmaker was still unnerved by how similar it was to the captivity that he - and Spectre - had experienced on the inside of the Lost Incident. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>  Spectre followed through and stood behind but adjacent to Playmaker. Taking his own stock of the internal situation as well. Playmaker glanced behind as he stood, scanning the vicinity, with a vacant expression, Spectre didn’t seem so out of place in this blur of whiteness. Not necessarily awed by it but he too was noticing that very similarity that was making Playmaker hesitant to tread forward in this space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre came further into the box, to hover at Playmaker’s backside, just a little step further and as he did so, the entryway closed. Not even so much as a faint glow of cyan remained. Whilst he had nothing against captivity and small spaces, he suspected that Playmaker would take many offences to it. He even noticed how Playmaker visibly stiffened when that entryway shut. No way in, no way out or so it seemed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker put his fingers to his ear, to signal his topside partner, then cleared his throat, “Kusanagi, we’re inside, so you have visuals?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker waited a moment and all he got was static. He furrowed his brow and Spectre threw him a quizzical look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Kusanagi? Hello?” Playmaker tried again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Everything alright?” Spectre asked, cautious as he didn’t believe this boded well for either of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Communication has been cut off.” Playmaker informed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker looked down at Ai on his wrist, “Do you feel or sense Earth anywhere?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Your guess is as good as mine.” Ai shrugged. He then glanced at Spectre. “What about you? Can you sense him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre harrumphed. As if. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “You’re very sweet, has anyone ever told you that, huh? A real Casper the Friendly Ghost.” Ai teased Spectre since he was being unhelpful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Stop it.” Playmaker meddled, not wanting Spectre more irate than he already was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Ai sighed. A waste. He had plenty more quips like that to come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “We will just have to search manually then.” Playmaker announced but in a softer voice, upon turning to Spectre and even putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, he said, “We’ll find Earth, I promise. We’ll keep him safe for you too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>  “Thank you.” Spectre grunted but he ripped himself away from Playmaker’s touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker didn’t mind and he let Spectre do as he pleased inside the box. After all, he had a quiet faith in what Spectre had divulged during their correspondence leading up to this raid was true and sincere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker had wanted insurance that this wasn’t some ploy for the Knights of Hanoi to get to Ai. Granted, he thought that Ryoken would never stoop to such a low ambush, especially through Spectre, or even if it was all Spectre’s doing, then that would be especially cruel even for him but it was better to be safe than sorry. Playmaker did want to see the best in Spectre, even after how he had treated Akira as a worthless token to win and other such transgressions that marked him as a dirty coward. But he was a dirty coward with a strong sense of devotion. As convoluted and twisted as it was, Playmaker did see in their duel that Spectre was dedicated to his cause and there was some ghost of nobility in that steadfastness that Spectre possessed unto Revolver and the Knights of Hanoi but still. He wanted to bring about the termination of the Ignis so this repatriation mission was uncharacteristic and it was so unusual, Playmaker wanted to see there was goodness and trust in the foundation of this tentative alliance and Spectre provided it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   In the correspondence, Spectre revealed how he had cried for Earth when he had been decompiled. He had felt it just the same as the other Ignis had felt it and he had cried. Just one tear for a start but it became of a bawl and a sob. His heart had felt like something had pierced it. And the fact that he had to mourn in secrecy, around Ryoken’s gloating even, it was enough to make anyone break.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>  And it wasn’t just the story that Spectre relayed that convinced Yusaku of his honesty, there were other elements to it which affirmed his story. His way of speaking through text was utter prose, Yusaku thought and even though he wasn’t the type to enjoy anything written so superfluously, reading how Spectre had been emotionally affected by Earth’s passing was enough to convince Yusaku of the legitimacy of the fact that Spectre wanted Earth back. Not necessarily alive and revived, just back. So, Yusaku agreed to Spectre’s alliance and the retrieval mission that he wanted from it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>  But it all seemed for nought. Searching Queen’s storage unit wasn’t getting them anywhere. It was infuriating for Spectre and depressing for Playmaker. He really did want to help Spectre find Earth, even if it was just the pieces of him. But he kept looking even as it seemed that there wasn’t anything at all inside the toy box. Not a single tile or plank had revealed a thing, at least for Playmaker. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre was fastidious as he searched, fastidious but fuming. Thoroughly he trawled the side of the unit that he had volunteered to search. He was begging and praying to feel some semblance of Earth’s presence in this box but it was futile. He banged his fist against a close tile in aggravation but something clicked. There was a glow. An orange glow and Spectre gasped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “What was that?” Playmaker piped up to ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre didn’t want to get his hopes up but he crammed his fingers in the edge of the glow and as much as it hurt, gritting his teeth, he managed to dislodge something in the wall. The glow sharpened and an alarm sounded. His hands were raw and his heart pounded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Security protocol activated.” A voice - Queen’s voice - declared. “I don’t appreciate thieves. Enjoy the half-finished virus you just activated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Virus?!” Ai exclaimed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker and Spectre watched as the virus rained down on them. Orange sparkles cascaded down and glowed softly. Disappearing after a few seconds, never falling past their heads and shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Curiously, Ai leaned out of Playmaker’s Duel Disk in his form as a tentacle monster. He sampled the data that was showering down on them and nattered to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Spicy,” he said, “but a little sweet too. I can’t make heads or tails of what this program was supposed to be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker was silent but Spectre wasn’t. After doing something so dumb and reckless as spurring an unidentifiable virus over them, Spectre had had enough. Especially with himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “This is her personal storeroom, is it?” Spectre snarled, stating the obvious as it elucidated to them. “It’s her garbage dump.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker wanted to say something but Spectre was still spitting with rage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Earth’s not here.” he said, stiff and heated. “We never should have come to this accursed place nor teamed up, to begin with. This was all a horrid lapse of judgement brought on by regret and doubt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>  Not deterred by that outward hostility, Playmaker moved closer to Spectre. Though, he did resist the urge to touch Spectre, to soothe him through that, given his previous rejection. Still, Playmaker spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I disagree.” Playmaker said softly. “I don’t think this has been a waste of time at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre just started. Furious but disarmed. Playmaker continued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Thank goodness. “If this place is a garbage dump for Queen, I’m glad Earth’s not here then. I’m sorry, Spectre, we got bad intel. That’s on me. But I don’t think it’s been worthless, I - I think I understand you better now. That’s enough for me, at least.” Playmaker consoled him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “But we should still get out, who knows what that SOL Tech Queenie’s put in you.” Ai pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Y-Yeah,” Playmaker said and he glanced at Spectre, “but communication’s been cut off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Ai hummed and he looked towards the tile that Spectre had dislodged. It sure looked like a way out to him since he was small enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>  “But you can get out, can’t you?” Playmaker asked, sounding playfully accusatory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “A-yup.” Ai nodded. “Or at least I hope.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Fine. But go straight to Kusanagi.” Playmaker said and he felt a bead of sweat drip down his face. He was starting to feel quite hot underneath his cat-suit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “On it.” Ai replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker unlocked his Duel Disc and let Ai flit off. He was quick to pass over Spectre’s shoulder and jet through that tiny hole in the wall. He forced himself through it, legs kicking, and then managed to escape. Playmaker smiled. He had faith that Ai would be quick and Kusanagi would be quicker still to find them away from this place but there was something strange about Spectre.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   There always was, Playmaker supposed. Spectre was weird after all but this was different. He looked upset. He twitched and vibrated with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Are you okay?” Playmaker asked, trying to keep his breathing even but he was feeling a little light-headed. He didn’t want to let that show in case that semblance of weakness set Spectre off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “No.” Spectre snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   He turned around suddenly to Playmaker, he was trembling. Sweaty, too. There was a fierceness in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I don’t even know why I’m doing this anymore.” Spectre growled. His eyes watered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “We’ll find Earth, I promise, you’ll get your closure, Spectre, and I hope that helps.” Playmaker said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   He wasn’t good at the whole talking to people thing. Especially on such volatile emotions and to someone like Spectre as well? The difficulty was immense but he did truly want to help. He had duelled Earth and he saw such similarity to Spectre; they would have been so close, Playmaker was certain, and he wanted to affirm that to Spectre, for better or worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre fanned himself and mumbled, “Your kindness is wasted on me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker didn’t know what to say in reply to that. Except that maybe he was glad that Spectre hadn’t commented on his so-called weird sense of justice so he chose something else to talk about. Something not so tense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Are you feeling hot as well?” Playmaker asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Yes, actually.” Spectre replied, a little taken aback by the change of conversation but also at the fact that he wasn’t just imagining it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I wonder if it’s because of the half-finished virus we found.” Playmaker said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “That would be a concern,” Spectre agreed, “I would consider boiling alive a deeply unpleasant way to expire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker shivered. “A dark thought but okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “It’s a possibility-” Spectre had gone to speak but something happened to Playmaker which caused him to just completely lose track of his train of thought. “Or maybe not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker blushed as he tried to keep himself decent. Spectre stifled a laugh as he raised a brow. What a peculiar virus. First, it raised their bodily temperatures, then it erased Playmaker’s clothes. At least partially. Pixel by pixel, the pale green of his catsuit was deleted. Even with just a little bit gone, he looked so scantily clad but in chaste panic, Playmaker tried to hide what appeared of his skin as he was all too aware of how one pec was completely uncovered and the other was just about to give way to immodesty. He glared at Spectre who was utterly amused by the situation and was then given a taste of his own medicine. His entire jacket disappeared in a clatter of yellow pixels.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre groaned. “A very unusual virus,” he muttered, “perhaps it’s true aim is to destroy our avatar so we can’t log-in after it takes effect?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “A more pleasant theory than your first one.” Playmaker commented. “But I believe there’s a third stage to this virus.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “What makes you say that?” Spectre inquired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Well, um...” Playmaker began pointedly only for it to turn to awkwardness but completely failed to muster any meaningful vocalisations. Spectre watched, intrigued, as Playmaker’s eyes searched his body for some clue as to what to say next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker had never noticed it before but Spectre was actually quite handsome in his own, unconventional way. A unique profile when he turned his face. His eyes were bright, almost doll-like in hue and how they were framed with lashes. He was tall too. With nice hands with immaculate nails. His quaffed hair was a peculiar shade, reminding Playmaker of artful clay. When he wasn’t spouting atrocity and cruelty, he could be quite easy on the eyes. These thoughts were strange and inexplicable and greatly unhelpful but Playmaker would not be deterred.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>  He could not allow himself to stammer so he tried again, as awkward as it may seem. His hands turned to fists by his sides as he just spat out what he was thinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “My actual body is currently fighting a, um, situationally inappropriate boner.” he said and let himself come unguarded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre used that as his cue to take a tasteful glance at him, noticing how pink and hard Playmaker’s uncovered nipple looked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Oh, I see,” Spectre replied, “I just thought that was me and well, not anything unusual for me, unfortunately.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker’s face reddened. He mumbled something. Spectre knew what he said but pretended otherwise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Pardon?” he teased Playmaker. “I didn’t quite catch that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker glared and he stepped forward. He pushed Spectre against the wall and kept him there. Yet Spectre seemed all too pleased with himself, looking down at Playmaker all smug and with heavy-hooded eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I said that means this is a sex virus.” Playmaker growled. Unthinkingly, he slotted one of Spectre’s legs between his own, coming finitely close to humping him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Do you think that means if we have some, it’ll be over quicker?” Spectre asked, quirking a brow. He could feel Yusaku’s hard-on even through his digital veneer as Playmaker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I think there’s only one way to find out.” Playmaker replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   He breathed steadily, maintaining a glare with Spectre who was waiting for him to double back and give up but it was happening. Playmaker was being stubborn, even when he couldn’t believe it but it was just so unbearable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   From underneath what remained of his catsuit, Playmaker was burning up. He could feel an uncomfortably warm arousal throb in his loins and Spectre’s cocky expression was turning him all the more even against his will under the effect of that virus. And it must have been the same for Spectre. Since Playmaker wasn’t budging, that was all the invitation that he needed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre grabbed Playmaker and pulled him forward. Playmaker’s eyes went wide and he stumbled where Spectre was surprisingly suave. In a klutz of a dance, they swapped where they stood. Now it was Playmaker with his back against the wall and Spectre was the one keeping him all pushed up against it. Putting his hands on Playmaker’s hips and Spectre relished just how delicate a figure that Playmaker had. He was somewhat firm with musculature but that made little difference given how clinched his waist and hips were comparatively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre smirked as his head ducked down. It was probably rude but he didn’t care; he went straight for what he wanted first rather than showing some courtesy of romance to Playmaker such as kissing him first. Spectre licked Playmaker’s right nipple and savoured how Playmaker squirmed. The bud of his nipple was hard and perfect to toy with using the tip of his tongue as Spectre slowly closed his mouth over it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker groaned and he had such a melodic voice. Spectre smiled as he suckled harder on Playmaker’s nipple. His hands clamping down harder on Playmaker’s hips. Playmaker could have buckled underneath but he stayed strong against how voracious Spectre came on against him. And even against how the viruses deleted more of his catsuit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   The dark green of his avatar’s clothes turned to pixels. Leaving on the yellow of the tight, leather-like material that he wore clinging to his skin with much impossibility. That amused Spectre greatly as he slid his hands down and felt Playmaker shiver. He felt dewy with sweat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre snickered to himself as he kept one hand on the outside of Playmaker’s thigh and let the other one grope him senselessly. He kept a good pace with toying with his nipple, sucking it and flicking it over with his tongue, whilst teasing him on the inner of his thigh. That, in turn, becoming a grope for somewhere else down below on Playmaker’s trembling body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre’s right hand slid over the length of Playmaker’s cock, back and forth in a languid pump before firmly grasping it. He gasped and his heart began to race faster. Spectre moved his left hand back up to Playmaker’s hips, keeping him steady whilst he jerked him off. Playmaker moaned again and he truly had no idea just how delicious he sounded. Spectre revelled in how Playmaker’s lewd noises reverberated on his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker squirmed. But Spectre, being somewhat intuitive, switched over. He wouldn’t want to be a neglectful lover, after all. He moved his mouth to Playmaker’s other nipple whilst still pumping him downwards. The breath of fresh air on his wet nipple was excruciating but Playmaker welcomed the cycle repeating itself over. Spectre was thorough and methodical with his tongue, sticking to what appeared to be a safe route to build Playmaker up. Even if he was already a panting mess with every lick and suckle that Spectre teased him with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker’s hands backed up against the wall and he sighed as he felt Spectre grind on him. Humping his leg whilst still jerking him off. It was like he was obsessed and honestly, Playmaker couldn’t get enough of that tension, of having things done to him. The effects of that virus weren’t helping either, heightening the arousal and the action. Playmaker groaned and his hands clenched against the wall. And he pushed on something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Another tile of the wall gave way. This time, the glow was purple but honestly, neither of them cared. The room made a noise, a sort of grating sound, like brick against brick or akin, but it was curt. And it didn’t happen again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker still ripped his hand away from the tile involuntarily, as though he had just touched something hot. He caressed Spectre’s face and hazarded a glance. Slowly, Spectre opened his eyes and Playmaker’s heart leapt to his throat. He had never noticed how beautiful a blue they were until now and even though Spectre kept his tongue on Playmaker’s nipple, he was still able to smirk through it. He also stopped pumping Playmaker’s cock, but he still held it with a wisp of his prior actions. Playmaker blushed, his voice crackling on his mouth, unable to compose himself to speak as he was too far gone on Spectre’s rhythm and didn’t want to disturb it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Nonetheless, Spectre weaned himself off Playmaker and kissed him on the mouth. It was a drawn-out kiss, hard on the lips, but it felt chaste as there was no tongue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Do you want more?” Spectre whispered in his ear, kissing the side of his face afterwards with a hint of a bite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Y-Yeah.” Playmaker murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “And what do you want more of, hm?” Spectre teased him and he kissed the side of Playmaker’s face again, but it drifted. Became a nuzzle and then a pierce.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker swallowed a squeak as Spectre bit the outer shell of his ear, not even the lobe. Just the cartilage on the edge. Spectre noticed how Playmaker had jumped slightly at the hint of his teeth and it pleased him immensely. He felt Playmaker’s hands graze on the fabric of his trousers; his fingers twanging on his belt loops. Playmaker shivered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I want you to… take these off.” Playmaker said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre laughed. It was a dull, barky laughHow unfair it was in its entirety. He had triggered the virus but Playmaker was the one who had lost more of his clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Very well then.” Spectre murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   The mere act of touching his belt hidden beneath his jacket caused it to be deleted by the virus. Spectre chuckled darkly with amusement at such a thing. That was certainly one way to help him get out of his pants. He loosened them down and Playmaker gawked. He looked away, trying to play it cool but his bended knees gave him away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   He buckled under his weight and he clamoured for Spectre to be some stalwart figure for him. Although, Spectre didn’t mind. Especially with how Playmaker’s hands reached up for him and the hem of his underwear. Spectre’s cock sprang loose and Playmaker blinked. He was prettier than he was expecting if that was the right word. Playmaker wasn’t sure; he just thought Spectre was thin and willowy, topped with neat, silvery strands of hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker’s throat tightened in trepidation but he didn’t want to leave Spectre waiting. Just on his knees, staring. So, he started small, with just his tip. Spectre smiled coldly; he had thought Playmaker would be bolder than that but he couldn’t complain because getting his dick sucked at all was better than nothing at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   And just as he was admonished Playmaker for cautiousness, he tried that little bit harder. Playmaker pushed himself past his own threshold. He swallowed more of Spectre’s cock and he twitched, he sighed. Spectre reached for Playmaker’s head and pet the top of his hair, running his fingers through his strawberry red hair. Playmaker didn’t want to admit it, but he adored the feeling of Spectre’s fingers on his scalp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre moved his hips slightly forward, the gentlest thrust and Playmaker took it better than either of them expected. He held it for a moment before receding back, dragging his tongue back with him, making Spectre shiver. Playmaker had no technique but that was to be expected. So, mostly, he was experimenting and sometimes, he got it really right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Like with how he kissed and suckled the tip of Spectre’s cock, making him croon with how wet just a bit of his mouth was and then supplementing with going deeper. Until he took as much as Spectre’s cock as he could - and letting him thrust against his head. Playmaker’s throat throbbed as he let Spectre fuck against his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre kept one hand atop Playmaker’s head and the other, he pressed against the wall so he could better leverage himself against Playmaker’s mouth. He closed his eyes as he thrust against Playmaker over and over, quicker each time. Mostly shallow but sometimes not, he just wanted to savour how tight Playmaker’s throat was, to say nothing of the fact that he didn’t flinch making Spectre presume he had no gag reflex.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   It had Spectre panting as Playmaker took it all to the best of his abilities and Spectre could swear he was about to come. His cock throbbed and his blood pulsed. The sensations were warm and wonton. He closed his eyes a little tighter and he felt himself on the verge of that brink; he kept pushing against the wall whilst dully playing with Playmaker’s hair. Pushing against it, getting onto his toes even to better propel himself, revelling in how Playmaker’s tongue felt against him until he felt something scrape against his other hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>  The sudden pain was jarring and awoke Spectre from the rhythm of his pleasure. He could feel his orgasm hanging in the balance as he wearily opened his eyes and oh. That wasn’t good. The ceiling had moved in on them both too low and now it was pushing back against his hand. He dragged his hand down slightly but that wasn’t enough. He watched, frustrated, with Playmaker still sucking him off, as the ceiling followed. Slowly but surely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Pl-Playmaker,” Spectre stuttered on heavy breaths, his chest was tight with a libidinous feeling he was loath to fight, “st-stop, if I’m going to come in you,” he said, not a quite a lie, “then I want to do it properly.” He spoke with a furrowed brow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker could never call Spectre uncaring after this, not that Spectre aimed for Playmaker to realise that and not that it sounded all that kind on the raw rasp of his throat either. So perverse and pleasured. But Spectre liked to know things and he knew that Playmaker wasn’t overly fond of small, tight spaces like this stupid toybox garbage dump of Queen’s was about to become so Spectre aimed to hopefully placate his own desires and Playmaker’s fears. Even if it was for a little while before Playmaker inevitably noticed what a small box that he and Spectre had become trapped in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   And that still wasn’t placating the time limit either, that puny Dark Ignis could return with a key at any moment but Spectre still wanted at least one orgasm in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker gasped as he let go of Spectre’s cock from his mouth. His mouth felt funny after taking it for as long as he had and how he had, too. He licked his lips as he noticed how Spectre’s cock glistened with his saliva. The thought was lewd, making Playmaker flush red but not quite so red as his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Now get down on your knees already.” Spectre snarled. His expression twisted slightly. It was very wanting; greedy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker was harrowed by it. His heart skipped a beat and his stomach lurched; either way, he abided by the order. Spectre stepped aside, tinily and neatly. Playmaker bent down, hands to the floor and spread his legs a little bit apart. He felt something like an animal and thusly, Spectre mounted him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker visibly flinched as he felt Spectre so close - too close - to him. It was an unusual feeling exacerbated by the sensation of feeling those fleeting pixels of Spectre’s pants, too. Once pushed aside, they were now completely gone and a glance behind, Playmaker noticed how their legs were in a tangle and how Spectre’s legs were only clad in socks and garters. It was kind of cute; especially how they had that highlight stripe of yellow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre cocked a smirk. “Having fun ogling at me?” he asked with a cutting tone of voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker turned his head straightforward again, embarrassed. Spectre laughed. It’s not like it was unreciprocated. Spectre was enjoying being so close and slotted up against Playmaker, after all. He was gorgeous and there was no way he didn’t know it as Playmaker had all that toned musculature that Fujiki Yusaku most certainly did not have. And all wrapped up, like a gift specifically to him, in that sash of yellow, especially with how it hung over him, barely sparing him any chastity but thoroughly accentuating his firm curves. Spectre couldn’t help but feel blessed for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   As such, he couldn’t resist but to start touching Playmaker. Spectre groped the inner of Playmaker’s thigh; he was thin but firm. Spectre smirked himself as his caress was hard; it made Playmaker shiver, all but buckle underneath his own weight as Spectre probed him curiously. Seeing what he liked and what he didn’t like before inching just that little bit closer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker swallowed as he felt Spectre’s arousal so close behind him. Spectre noticed and he couldn’t help but wonder if Playmaker was getting impatient. Didn’t just want to be fondled and caressed; maybe he wanted to be fingered. He put such a little theory to the test.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre gently pushed aside that sash of skin-tight fabric away from Playmaker. He circled his tight hole gently, curiously before he inserted a finger. Playmaker stiffened and that just made Spectre want to tease him. Still, Spectre abided by better judgement and was slow with him. The physics of the Link VRAINS were quite a blessing at times, especially in times such as these. They aided in making things softer. More gentle than they would have been in the real world. Making Playmaker all that easier to rile up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   In a moment of unguarded repose at being fingered, Spectre was able to elicit a noise from Playmaker that was lewd and sweet. Spectre quirked a brow, intrigued, and he pushed a second finger into Playmaker’s hole. He whined for more and Spectre upped his ante. Fingering him more roughly as Playmaker melted at the touch, making Spectre greedy for more as he worked his fingers and his wrist hard for Playmaker. He panted as he worked himself up into a furore fingering Playmaker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   And at what seemed to be a pivotal moment for them both, Spectre denied them both. He pulled back. A tactical retreat. Playmaker gasped as Spectre’s fingers left his tuned-up hole. Panting, he turned his head slightly and shot a dirty look at Spectre who relished such selfishness in the verdant green of Playmaker’s eyes. He licked his lips as he wiped his hand on his upper thigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Are you ready for more?” Spectre asked, his voice was husky, and he was fully intending on going through with it regardless of how Playmaker answered but to his pleasant surprise, Playmaker replied compliantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   He swallowed a lump in his throat, embarrassed by his previous display, and in a tiny voice said, “Yes.” He nodded his head. He was pathetic in how desperate he was; Spectre felt adored. High and mighty, almost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker turned his head forward again and rested it on the steeples of his interlaced arms. He felt like an animal on all fours, begging to be fucked and Spectre wasn’t helping as he mounted himself against Playmaker. He lined himself up and held down on Playmaker’s hips so firm, Playmaker could swear he could feel red marks rise on his skin in the elegant shape of Spectre’s fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre grunted as he held Playmaker steady, ramming him full of his cock. Playmaker gasped and already, he felt it so deep inside of him. Playmaker was surprised by how quick Spectre was to escalate but he was even more surprised by how much he liked it. Spectre held him down, one hand slipping underneath to his chest and he pinched Playmaker’s nipples. He sputtered out and sputtered out again as Spectre fucked him hard. And deep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre moaned and he let that noise reverberate in the base of his throat with the utmost relish as he groped Playmaker. He was just so fun to touch. Spectre thoroughly enjoyed to run his hands over Playmaker’s skin, toying with that sash of what remained of his catsuit and his nipples too. They were so sensitive and was so cute in how standoffish he was. Trying to be secretive as it were.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   He kept burying his moans. It just made Spectre want to hear him more. Unrestrained and unguarded. The thought of getting Playmaker to that wanton peak made Spectre giddy. And that giddiness just propelled him further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker groaned and Spectre was swift to hit him deep. Prostrate deep. Playmaker flinched and his fingers flexed. Spectre closed in on him. His lips brushed the pointed hackles between Playmaker’s shoulders. He flicked his tongue over the bumps of Playmaker’s vertebrae and kissed him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I want to hear your voice,” Spectre whispered, “its just us, your noises will be privy only to me, Playmaker, and trust me. I’m very good at keeping secrets.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker flushed bright red in the face as Spectre continued to kiss across his back and cradle his breast in one hand and hold him down by the hip in the other. It was sweet and overstimulating for someone such as he. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Spe…” Playmaker murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Yes, yes, good, now a little bit clearer this time.” Spectre encouraged him, pinching down on Playmaker’s nipple making him swallow a squeal. “I want to hear my name, Playmaker.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Just to tantalise Playmaker, Spectre gave another thrust and kept himself at the stab of it. Playmaker was excruciated by such a penetration, both cruel and pleasurable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Do you need to be assisted perhaps, Playmaker, dearest?” Spectre cooed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Playmaker raised a brow and looked out the corner of his eye at Spectre. He loomed over him like a pervert and before Playmaker could ask what that meant, Spectre let go of him. Feeling that patch of his skin that Spectre had had his hand on suddenly freed was bizarre. More bizarre still was the feeling of Spectre grabbing his cock again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “You liked it before, didn’t you?” Spectre asked and he leaned up to Playmaker, sinking his words in on the crowns of his teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker inhaled sharply as Spectre fucked him. Groped him. Jerked him off. Devoted as much of himself as humanly possible to Playmaker’s body. Playmaker’s cock throbbed in Spectre’s hand and Playmaker felt Spectre’s do the same inside of him. The sensations turned agonising as Playmaker realised how close to the edge he was; within the inch and he knew damn well that Spectre was a pervert. He wasn’t going to get any form of release until he played to Spectre’s demands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker’s mouth watered as the realisation in seconds turned to minutes. Over and over, languid and something to be savoured. It was all too much. His body ached, begging for that climax. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Pl-Please, Spectre…” Playmaker moaned. “I - I want to come.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre’s face split into a grin that was hideous with how pleased he was to hear such things from Playmaker. His begging, pleading voice was gorgeous when inundated with lust. Oh, it felt like a victory to Spectre and he felt his heart pulsate in his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “With pleasure, my darling.” Spectre replied, enthusiastic in a way that made Playmaker’s skin crawl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   But Playmaker didn’t know what was worse: that, or how Spectre just flipped a switch on him. He had no idea how Spectre did it but with just a little bit more of what he did - with the flourish of extra strokes that could only be described as loving - but he made Playmaker come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker groaned and at the very end of it, he managed the merest, “Spectre.” A blur of pleasure as his vision whited out suddenly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   His whole body felt tense and impossibly hot. He orgasmed but it was a strange, clunky feeling as Spectre stopped himself from fucking it through. Just letting Playmaker unravel for just a moment. A good thirty seconds, perhaps, before continuing and that felt much better to Playmaker than that armistice he had been given. Then he felt it. The leaking of come that was not his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “So good, my darling.” Spectre purred. He shuddered through it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker sucked in a breath as he Spectre arched back. Revelling in his own orgasm that Playmaker had hardly noticed save for the leaking of come. It was hot and seeping, he didn’t know how to feel about it but glancing back, Spectre was clearly enjoying himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I still want more.” Spectre told him in a pitch higher than he normally used.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I’m a bit tired.” Playmaker said. Somewhere between a confession of truth and lie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   It was true that he did feel weary. He looked it too; red to the tip of his ears, slick with sweat. But it was also a lie because he could still feel the virus fester inside of him. It was having such loosening effects on him. Making him see double sometimes and nothing at all the next. If he didn’t know any better, he was saying the room was getting smaller but it was so blindingly white that Playmaker couldn’t make heads or tails of it. Especially not with Spectre on top of him still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   His hands has fallen back to Playmaker’s hips. They were soft though, not a grip or a grasp. Just a remnant of the embrace from before pulled back and with a stolen glance. Playmaker found it entirely possible and highly likely that Spectre was already reliving this moment of glory. He was a perversely nostalgic person like that. Feeling the exact same as him under the effects of this accursed sex virus. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   The effects of the virus amplified what Playmaker felt; not even letting him go limp after coming. It was multiplying and electrifying, persevering on even though he really needed to lie down and do nothing. A blank horror invaded his body, as pleasured as it was, and made Playmaker wonder if this is why the sex virus has been abandoned to this place. Because it had that endlessly duplicating program in it, maybe it couldn’t turned off. Maybe the end result was just the clutter of a mind so addled with sex that it was useless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker shuddered. Yet more horrifyingly, somewhere in the back of his mind, there was a part of him fortifying for that terrible endgame to this situation. Trapped inside a tiny white box again but this time, perhaps, he could have some fun. Playmaker scolded himself for having such thoughts though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Ai would be here soon. Surely, hopefully. With help in tow. But until then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Then use me more.” Playmaker piped up, breaching both in his own reverie and Spectre’s too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre beamed. Like he had barely heard Playmaker at all, it was such a loose expression but his larynx bobbed in his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “My pleasure, petal.” Spectre replied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   The pet names were a bit much, Playmaker thought. Too affectionate for two such as them but he didn’t say anything about it lest it break Spectre’s heart. He was so much more fragile than he let on, Playmaker had come to realize on this expedition. So, instead, he said something he hoped would make Spectre’s heart flutter. And it did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Do whatever you want to me. Please. I want it.” Playmaker told him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “How excellent, thank you, Playmaker.” Spectre exhaled dreamily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   He let go of Playmaker. Pulled back, dislodged. Playmaker groaned as Spectre did so. Although, maybe it was more of a soapy hiccup than a moan, but it made Spectre smirk either way as he pulled out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Should I clean you up, my darling?” Spectre asked, teasingly. His eyes sharp after being blurry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker’s stomach knotted. The come inside of him - Spectre’s, that is - was not real so it didn’t make a difference to him either way if Spectre were to fuck him full of more of it still. However, that was just Playmaker. His real self, Fujiki Yusaku, who was sitting slumped in the backroom stall inside the hot dog truck had creamed himself for real. Getting that cleaned up to him mattered more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Your awfully quiet, Playmaker,” Spectre prompted him, “trying to figure out if you have a preference for if my mouth or my fingers do such a thing for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>  “Spectre!” exclaimed Playmaker, scandalised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Take your pick, the easy way or the hard way.” Spectre shrugged. “I prefer the hard way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Easy way.” Playmaker intoned breathily. “Definitely the easy way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “As you wish, petal.” Spectre replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   He had been hoping for the hard way as he liked the taste of his come, even from such a receptacle such as as the anus, but he would oblige Playmaker’s wishes over his own. With just a snap of his fingers, he erased not only the data of his semen inside of Playmaker but also the semen that Playmaker had produced. Playmaker sighed in relief. He seemed more comfortable now, even if the sensation of vanishing pixels inside of him was just as bizarre a feeling as having it leak out of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Am I right to do as I want with you from here?” Spectre asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Yeah…” Playmaker mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Now, I want you on your back, facing me.” Spectre instructed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Uh-huh…” Playmaker chewed on his response, dubious but ultimately obedient.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre knelt back, letting Playmaker roll over at his own volition as awkward and clumsy as that was for no fault of either of them. Playmaker pouted once he was on his back, he felt vulnerable like a beetle from such a position. But vulnerability gave way to bewilderment as he watched Spectre get on top of him again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “What are you doing?” Playmaker asked, doing his best not to sound winded as Spectre sat atop his rib cage - and his cock was uncomfortably close to Playmaker’s chin now, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre flattened his hand over his cock so that it better dipped down along the natural contours of Playmaker’s sternum, “Isn’t it obvious?” Spectre asked. “I want to fuck your tits next.” He punctuated his vulgarity with a thrust of his hips, rubbing his cock down Playmaker’s chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker grunted, his expression faltered and Spectre cooed over that. He toyed with that sash of yellow, twanging against Playmaker who flinched every time, no matter how gentle before alternating with something kinder to him. Again, those shimmering touches that were explorative and worshipful, that made Playmaker suppress groans so prettily. Spectre keened to hear such things from Playmaker’s mouth. He tried again and he was more serious about it. Less playful. Spectre trailed his fingers over Spectre’s chest, with one hand, dancing a trail with just his fingertips that made Playmaker squirm, trying to mask how his heart fluttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Before he knew it, he was enraptured by Spectre’s rhythm, his skin shivering with such light touches, and seized completely by it. Either side of him, Spectre cupped Playmaker’s breast. Spectre edged his thumb along what he could reach of Playmaker’s serratus anterior before allowing it to return to the side of his hand. Playmaker breathed heavily; his face still flushed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I don’t have to do anything, do I?” Playmaker asked uncertainly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre licked his lips; he could feel Playmaker’s pulse just beneath his fingertips. It was quick but not fast. Embarrassed perhaps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “No, just allow me to do as I please with you, I promise I won’t come on your face if you don’t want me to.” Spectre replied as assuringly as he could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “O-oh, okay,” Playmaker murmured, “well, um, don’t come on my face then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Understood, petal.” Spectre replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   His expression was saccharine and held it through more of his gyrating of his hips. Grinding atop Playmaker, rubbing his cock on Playmaker’s chest. Playmaker sucked in a breath as he tried to get used to the unique friction of it. He arched his head forward because of the successive impacts; his expression was mildly irritated with his knitted brows. Spectre tutted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I thought you didn’t want me to come on your face.” Spectre teased him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker guffawed, unable to muster a response. Especially with Spectre still grinding his hips atop of him. Spectre just laughed at his helplessness. Playmaker exhaled through his nose - annoyed - and tilted his head back slightly, so that his face was less of a target as Spectre fucked him. And it was strange, Playmaker thought to himself through all this, but he could swear the room was getting smaller. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   But that couldn’t be right. Surely not. Hopefully not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   It could have just been the whiteness of the ceilings, floors, and walls playing tricks of him but he could swear. Playmaker even noticed how Spectre hunkered over him a specific way. Never straightening his back fully; it was like he was trying to avoid hitting his head on something. Or maybe that was just how he had his fun at rubbing his cock on him.  The repetitive motions, as limited as they were from this position, with legs hitched over either side of him, were clearly doing something for Spectre.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre closed his eyes so he could better throw himself into what he was doing. So he could better imagine plushness to Playmaker’s masculine chest. His breaths were simpering, in a tightening throat, and his tongue lolled out the side of his mouth. Still riding the high from his previous orgasm, he was already close again to that climax. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre moaned through muddled vocalisations as he humped Playmaker’s chest. They were long and lewd. Though mostly making Playmaker roll his eyes. It was difficult to breathe beneath his erratic thumps but in it, Playmaker saw an opportunity to tease Spectre back, countering off all his quips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I want to hear it,” Playmaker spoke up, “I want you to call my name as you come.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   He sounded so cocky. It was adorable but also impressive. Spectre gave a slow, languid thrust and opened his eyes at the crux of it. He shuddered; his shoulders quivered as he closed in on himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “It would be my pleasure, Playmaker…” Spectre drawled out but his raggedy voice twisted into a moan. An orgasm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre jutted out his own chest as he came. He was breathing rapidly as his cock spurted with semen. He lifted himself off Playmaker slightly just to get better distance as he adorned him most ardently with what he considered to be a beautiful pearl necklace. An artful splatter of semen across his chest that scalded him mildly with more distaste or discomfort more so than anything else. At the end of it, Spectre looked incredibly pleased himself, smarmy and content as he enjoyed the visage of Playmaker painted in his come. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Pervert.” Playmaker muttered under his breath and he hardly had the half of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre scooted himself further down Playmaker’s body. He sat at Playmaker’s lap, over his flaccid cock, straddling it, and also he could better bend down to clean his mess with his tongue. If Playmaker had a preference, Spectre did not intend to acknowledge a bar of it as he decadently licked his come off Playmaker’s chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   It was utterly gourmet, Spectre would have Playmaker know. Playmaker squirmed as Spectre so eagerly lapped from him. Given how frequently Spectre came back to doing such things within this trapped tryst, it couldn’t be more obvious to Playmaker as to how Spectre got his rocks off. He shivered with revolt, a metallic taste in his mouth, as Spectre savoured the act of licking his semen off Playmaker’s chest. It was like he was a big baby, Playmaker clicked his tongue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   That got Spectre’s attention. At least briefly. He was sluggish as he lifted his head up, his plump lips smeared with semen that even now, he was intent on licking off. Playmaker didn’t want to but he couldn’t help himself; he watched, far too carefully, how Spectre’s tongue flicked at the stains and swallowed until finally Spectre’s voice snapped him out of the inadvertent mesmer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Yes?” Spectre prompted Playmaker with a heavy breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker glared as he started to shift up. He glanced down at himself briefly, noting how little semen there was left on him, before snapping his own fingers, activating an erasing program. He huffed and then hit his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “What the..?” Playmaker murmured, completing changing tracks from what he had been thinking before, now that he was propped up as he was ever going to be which was still squished and scrunched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I have no explanation to offer other than it being another of Queen’s cruel tricks, though, admittedly, I might have caused this one. Do you recall the orange light-activated trigger?” Spectre asked with a shrug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker’s brow furrowed as he touched his chin in thought, “Perhaps…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “But no matter, what were you going to ask before?” Spectre asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Oh, um, well,” Playmaker said and he looked a brat, “I want to come again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre’s face split into a grin as he put his hand on his heart, “It would be my pleasure, Playmaker.” And when he lifted his hand away, he asked, “And what would you like me to do to you?” He sounded as though he were salivating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker had no idea if he was being condescended or not but he felt some small shiver of pleasure either way. He shifted how he sat; one leg went up and the other down as weight altered between either of his hands and even now, he wanted to have some shred of decency or chastity. He tried to hide how his cock laid in his lap but it felt too obvious regardless. Playmaker blushed as he recalled his previous thoughts and he came up with what he thought was a good reply to Spectre’s question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I want you to show me how you masturbate.” Playmaker said. He was uncertain if he had spoken a command or not but Spectre behaved as though it had been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   He inched in closer and Playmaker found it abrupt. Too familiar and affectionate for a pair such as they but nonetheless, Spectre came in close. He sat up against Playmaker, his legs dragging beside him, even if it was a little cramped. The box they had initially entered had shrunk to proportions that barely fit them but at least they didn’t have to sit on top of another to fit but truth to be told, they were probably going to do that anyway given how they couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “How do you want me to do it?” Spectre asked, turning his head to Playmaker and Playmaker shuddered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   He could feel Spectre’s breath on the outer shell of his ear; Spectre’s nose grazing through stray strands of his strawberry hair. And he was using this utter purr of a voice that from any other mouth, Playmaker would have melted but he forced himself to stiffen. He took a shaky breath as he tried to explain what exactly it was that he wanted Spectre to do to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I want to see how you’d do it first,” Playmaker said in a brittle breath, “and if I like it, I want you to do it to me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I see.” Spectre hummed thoughtfully and then chuckled. “You really seem to like my hands, don’t you?” He teased as he moved in, like a snake, to grasping Playmaker’s cock again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker shivered and sucked in an unexpected breath. Spectre was right, of course, and it infuriated Playmaker given how innately smug he was about knowing things so he didn’t want to give Spectre the satisfaction. But Spectre just knew he was right. The way Playmaker reacted so well to even the slightest and most vanilla of sensations, it was virginal. Spectre relished it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   He also relished being right about other things; leaning into Playmaker’s ear again, kissing the side of his face, he then whispered, “I also think you like my voice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker turned his head away from Spectre who kept close regardless; schmoozing in against Playmaker, still trying to kiss him. Tease him. Playmaker swallowed hard as he tried to hide just how correct Spectre was making a prediction like that about him. Especially given that he punctuated it with a caress of his cock; Spectre’s thumb stroked backwards up Playmaker’s shaft and it made his heart skip a beat, his chest to tighten, and of course, turned him on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Should I tell you about what I normally do for me? Or should I be more polite and ask you what you normally do for yourself?” Spectre asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “The… The former.” Playmaker managed to stammer out whilst Spectre idly toyed with his cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “You don’t get off much, do you?” Spectre mused as he pumped Playmaker gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Spectre!” Playmaker sputtered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre laughed. Right again, he thought. For the third time in this part of the session, too, no less. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Is there any reason for that?” Spectre pried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “No, I just.” Playmaker growled. “It’s complicated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I don’t think it is,” Spectre whispered, “I’ll admit, I prefer using toys. Fleshlights, mostly, but other things too. I like the sensation of fucking something, getting lost in my mind…” His voice trailed off but it was all Playmaker could feel on his skin as Spectre jerked him off, kissed the side of his face again. “I think you are too pent up for your own good, Playmaker…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker struggled. He wanted to get away from Spectre because it felt like too much. Too under his skin, too hot under what very little fabric that he was wearing. In every molecule of him, really. A sort of embarrassment burned and Spectre was laying it on thick, pinning him up against the wall, jerking him off. Kissing him. It was unwanted but at the same time, very decadently wanted nonetheless and Spectre was revelling in it. He liked being reviled as embracing it hurt him less than rejecting it, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker put a hand up on the wall as he twisted away from Spectre but Spectre clung to him. His chest to Playmaker’s back, pressing down on him as he masturbated him, whispering things in his ear. Some things sweet and some things savoury. Either way, Spectre had Playmaker panting, gasping, and exactly how he had asked for it. As Playmaker had said he wanted to know how Spectre did it and Spectre elucidated him to all the details, making him blush. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre’s voice was sublime, Playmaker couldn’t believe that he had never noticed before. The way it rattled on his mouth was playful and cruel. A serendipity of versatility, tiptoeing through various shades of bass and baritone. All for Playmaker’s pleasure alone, accompanied by the other ways he used his mouth so deftly, too. How he kissed so chastely and how his tongue was so devilish, Playmaker was in rhapsody because of it. His lewd prose striking and evocative, Playmaker soaking in every story and murmur that Spectre conveyed to him for his perverse curiosity and satisfaction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Everything about how Spectre treated him made him pulsate and throb until finally. He orgasmed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker came - hard, as hard as he could at least, already wracked once with the exhaustive pleasure of a prior orgasm  - against the wall with Spectre still working him over as he ejaculated. His come streaked on the wall, spurting through the grasp of Spectre’s fingers on him. He felt exhausted by it. Thoroughly and completely exhausted by it but it was such a good exhaustion that made Playmaker droop in front of Spectre, barely and audibly asking for more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   He didn’t know if it was own, unearthed insatiability or the virus but Playmaker still made ask for more, as hoarse a demand as it was in his throat. And Spectre, as stout as an oak tree in stamina, unable to resist when he was so clearly and undeniably needed. That gave him all the adrenaline alone that he would need to fuck Playmaker just one more time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “A-And this time,” Playmaker murmured, “I want to see your face as you fuck me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre could have gone wild when he heard such a thing next from Playmaker. Awkwardly, yet very excitedly, he gave Playmaker some space to turn back around, to face him. Playmaker was as shy making such an instruction too; he got onto his knees and lifted himself so that he could slot into Spectre’s lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Anything you want,” Spectre promised him breathily, he was so horny to hear those sorts of rhings, “I’ll give you whatever you want, your wish is my command.” He was even hornier to reply to them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   The smell of their sex was heady, musky, but they liked it. The smallness of the box just amplifying whatever it was they were feeling for each other. This virus infused libidinous affection. A welcome claustrophobia that even Playmaker was able to tolerate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   He laced his arms around Spectre, holding him. Hugging him. And Spectre snuggled in tighter; nuzzling his face against Playmaker, their noses brushing up against one another, even feeling the other’s eyelashes on each other’s faces as their breaths mingled in such little space between them. Space that Playmaker sealed with a kiss on Spectre’s lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre kissed back, eager to please, fumbling with his cock as he thought now would be a good time to slide back into Playmaker’s hole that was already so loose and pliant from previous activity. Spectre sighed into the kiss and Playmaker could have swooned - and maybe he did in how his breath hitched. He closed his eyes, swallowed a moan as Spectre very gently, even romantically, tried to fuck him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker’s hips gave a thrust as he rode Spectre. He twitched; his whole body felt gelatinous but Spectre held him tenderly. His arms wrapped around Playmaker’s waist; still kissing him as, admittedly, the need to breathe inside the Link VRAINS was a nebulous concept, to begin with, no matter how they simulated it involuntarily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Still, there was a throb between both. They both knew it couldn’t last forever, neither their stamina or innate need to breathe so their lips broke apart. Their eyes opened. Playmaker’s irises, usually a bright green, had dulled with the blur of a hazy tiredness. It was sort of cute, Spectre thought to himself as Playmaker’s lips parted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I, um, I really like this.” Playmaker very quietly confessed to Spectre before gasping as he rode Spectre’s cock again. “I think, maybe, or it could - it could just be the virus but um, I really like-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Oh, Playmaker, your gallant servant has arrived to rescue you!” Ai’s voice was shocking. Completely and utterly irreverent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker could have jumped out of his skin when he heard it ring through the box which was now not so much a box as it was the mapped plans of a box. The walls felt apart like paper, unfurling and unwinding into squares rather than the folded up cube that it once was. And there he - and Spectre - were in the middle of it. Naked and cuddling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Oh.” Ai gawked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   He had gone and fetched not only his SOLtiS android but also some sort of way to disarm the box. He tapped the side of his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Oh, um, Hot Dog Man, do not open the camera right now,” he said, “uh, the virus that Playmaker and Spectre were infected with. Very nasty stuff. They, er, um… They looked like zombies. Yeah, zombies! No, no, don’t worry, its just their avatars, I can tell, trust me. Just, um, give me a minute to get them and their avatars, er, decent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker breathed a sigh of relief and Spectre slowly let him go, his arms unwinding around his waist as Playmaker got up to stand, as shakily as that was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Thank you for, um, covering for us, Ai.” Playmaker said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Ai came closer but he was sputtering. And also making huge, meaningly hand gestures but at the very least, with a snap of his fingers, Playmaker was suddenly looking a whole lot more presentable. After a cavalcade of violet data swarmed on him, his catsuit was replaced and restored at it should have been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre huffed and got to his own feet; not that Playmaker thought to extend him a hand, how rude. He stretched out his shoulders and with a snap of his fingers, he was looking prim and proper in his white two-piece suit again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Finally, for all his exasperated waffling, Ai managed to heave out a very desperate, “Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker blushed and shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “It was a sex virus.” Spectre piped up callously since Playmaker was too embarrassed. “It was very nasty stuff and,” he side-eyed Playmaker, “we never speak of it again. The baseline is,” he sighed, “we never found Earth. That is the only takeaway we need to have of this expedition. Farewell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “We’ll try again next time. Soon, I promise.” Playmaker feebly replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Spectre flicked his gaze and suddenly, he was completely unlike the Spectre that Playmaker had seen inside that box. He was all hard and determined and pessimistic again, like he had been at the beginning. All in all, his expression was doubtful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Goodbye, Playmaker, Dark Ignis.” Spectre bade them and he disappeared. He logged out. And it was all too very little ado.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Playmaker sighed dejectedly. He had no idea if it was still the straggling remnants of that virus or if maybe it was genuine but he did truly want to help Spectre. He wanted to see more of that kinder interior that he clearly possessed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Do you want to talk about it…?” Ai asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Not really; not here at, least. Let’s log out too.” Playmaker said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Do you want me to lie to Kusanagi and tell him you peed yourself you were so scared and that’s why you need a new pair of pants to get changed into?” Ai asked. “And </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> because you came in your pants having virtual sex with Spectre, of all people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Ai!” Playmaker scolded him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   And with that, all possibility of having some fleeting, bittersweet epiphany on the topic of Spectre and his complexities and their relationship was gone. Spectre was right. At the bottom line, all that mattered was the fact that their expedition had gone horribly and spectacularly wrong but still. As he logged out, Playmaker felt some lingering effect of the virus in him and not even just in a horny way but in a way that made him long for Spectre more generally. Maybe even just to see him happy or passionate about something. That would be nice.</span>
</p>
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